After a Fight
by PinkWataah
Summary: What happens when an argument between Fran and Max changes life as they know it? Will things ever go back to normal?


**Author's Note: I wrote a story similar to this years ago, and gave up on it. I hope you all enjoy. Please comment – constructive criticism, compliments, story suggestions – anything. Comments are what keep me excited to continue the story.**

"Mistuh Sheffield! … I mean, Max. That's hard to get used to." Fran said in her usual nasally accent as she walked down the stairs. "Max, sweetie… Are you sure you can't come with me? I know Fine Family Reunions aren't really your thing – but it's in Florida. The sunshine state. You can bring the kids!"

"Darling, I wouldn't want to subject the children to that…" Max laughed as he made it to the bottom of the stairs.

"EXCUSE ME?!" Fran turned around, her jaw just about hitting the floor in complete shock that he would say something like that - especially in front of her.

"Kidding! Kidding! I'm sorry, darling. I have work to do here, and I can't just let everything sit for a week. I am packed with shows to go over, interviews to conduct, people to cast. I haven't been this busy since – well I don't think I've ever been this busy."

"But I have something to prove!" Max arched his eyebrow in confusion. "Look, Max. You don't understand. Everyone in my family has told me that our marriage wouldn't last over a month. How am I supposed to prove them wrong if you're not there?!"

"Well to hell with them!" Max said, throwing his hands up and walking away, obviously putting on a show. "You don't need to prove anything, you know the truth. That's all that matters!"

"Uh – are you crazy?" Fran asked. "Max, I'm your wife now. You really should be coming with me to these things. I come with you to all your Broadway premieres."

"That's because you want to meet all the celebrities, darling." Max said as walked over to her, grabbed her around the waist, and leaned down for a kiss. Fran knew she couldn't argue, and frankly, she didn't want to at this point.

Suddenly, C.C. Babcock burst through the door, singing her usual "Hello, Hello!" She immediately took notice of the make out session that was happening before her very eyes. Disgusted, she tried to break the two up. "Excuse me, Maxwell, it's time to _work_ , not make kissy face with the nanny."

"Aw, Miss. Babcock, clearly you're just jealous that he would never make kissy face with the _assistant."_ She heard Niles say as he walked into the room.

Rolling her eyes out of annoyance and complete embarrassment, she retorted "At least I don't spend my day cleaning toilets." She turned her attention back to Max and Fran, who hadn't even paid any attention to her. "MAXWELL! I know work has been slow lately but-"

Suddenly, Fran pulled away. Max nervously straightened his tie.

"Work has been slow?" Fran asked, giving a death glare to Max.

"Well… I wouldn't say it has been slow… per say."

"Uh – yeah it has. We haven't had work to do in about 2 weeks other than begging people to audition for shows that they would never do." C.C. responded, confused.

"Max, you told me you'd never been busier in your whole life. Was that a lie?" Fran asked, arms crossed.

"Well… I may have bent the truth just a tad – but I wouldn't say…"

Fran looked intensely at her husband. "You haven't had work to do in two weeks?"

"Two weeks may be a bit of a stretch…"

"Is your job in jeopardy?"

"Well – I wouldn't say that. Or… maybe I would. I don't know. I'm trying to figure things out. But don't worry about me!"

Fran looked down and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Miss. Babcock, could you excuse us for a minute?"

"No, it's time for work and Max has to-"

"MISS. BABCOCK! Could you PLEASE give us a minute? And you too, Niles?" Fran snapped. C.C. and Niles, taken aback by her sharp tone of voice, quickly left. She turned her attention back to her husband and stared at him in disbelief. "Honey…"

"Listen, darling. I know you must be concerned. But I'll be fine. Don't worry about me I can handle myself!"

"Max! How could you lie to me? And how could you tell me to not worry about you? You're my HUSBAND, of course I am going to worry about you. If something happens to you… I'm broke!" She joked, trying to hide her feelings of anger and calm herself down. "…How could you not tell me that your job is in jeopardy?"

"Well…"

"If you are struggling in your job, don't you think I have a right to know? Don't you think it affects me too?"

"Well…"

"Max, you're treating me like the nanny!"

"You ARE the nanny!" Max snapped. His face showed immediate regret for what he had said.

Fran looked at him in disbelief. "…Excuse me?"

"… I didn't mean that."

"You don't think of me ANY different than you did 5 years ago? Is that what you're saying?"

"Of course I do."

"I am your WIFE, Maxwell. You're WIFE!"

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that."

"But you still did. Is that how you feel?"

"I obviously think higher of you than 'just' the nanny." Max responded.

"Do you think of me as an EQUAL? You know, like a WIFE?"

"Of course I think of you as a wife."

"And an equal?"

"…Yes. Yes of course!"

Fran could hear the hesitation in his voice. She didn't know what was worse – the fact that he was lying once again, or the fact that he really didn't consider her to be an equal. Fran turned to leave.

"Fran! Wait. I'm sorry about lying, too. It was only because -"

"It was only because what? You're too prideful to tell me you're struggling? Or maybe you lied about work because you didn't want to be with me? Or maybe you hate my family? Maybe you didn't want to spend a week alone with a subordinate. You know what? I don't even care what the reason is. I'm your wife now. You don't lie to, belittle, or keep things from your wife." She snapped as she folded her arms.

"Listen, darling…" Max started to wrap his arms around her waist before being pushed off by Fran.

"Why do you do that? You know how in love with you I am and you use my emotions to get out of fights. You do that all the time."

"Can't we just talk about this?"

"That's what I would like to do, but you seem to keep avoiding the subject. Why do you think it's okay to lie, insult, and keep things from me?" Fran asked, crossing her arms and shifting all of her weight to one leg.

"I don't! But listen. My career should concern me only! It's my business. You have no right to yell at me about this!"

"No right? Did you just say that? Guess what, Max, when we got married, we became one. That means one in ALL aspects of life."

"Fran, I don't want to fight about this just as you're leaving."

"It's clearly too late for that, Max. I'll see you in a week." Fran snapped as she picked up her suitcase and stormed out the door.

A million thoughts were racing through Fran's head on her walk to the Limo – _Why would he lie? Why would he keep secrets? Does he really think of me as just 'The Nanny'? Doesn't he love me enough? Did I over react? Maybe I'm just upset I won't see him. Maybe I took it out on him. No, No. I can't blame myself. He had no right. No right at all._

Fran walked to the Limo with her luggage, rubbing her head out of purse frustration. As she neared the Limo, she tripped and hit her head on the side of the glamorous vehicle. She closed her eyes tightly, feeling her head aching. Groaning, she opened her eyes slowly – noticing that her once white pants were now covered in dirt. She sighed heavily, rubbed the side of her head, got up, and walked to the house. It was there that she was greeted by the shock of a lifetime.

She could barely form a coherent thought.

She found it impossible to utter any words.

She was taken completely aback.

She saw her husband, her "loving" husband, kissing a skinny, tall, blonde woman.


End file.
